


Tunnel Vision

by Galileo (llord_nakcorevas)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Genji is a Little Shit, Jesse and Genji have the best bromance, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, brief descriptions of violence, brief mentions of homophobia, goes from 0 to 100 real fast, i tried to do slowburn leave me alone, implied gencio, light use of the word quxxr in case anyone is uncomfy with that, non graphic torture, starts off cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 04:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14128452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llord_nakcorevas/pseuds/Galileo
Summary: Hanzo and Genji are living in hiding from the Shimada under the last name Ito. Jesse is one of Genji's best friends, and he and Hanzo meet when Jesse enters Hanzo's restaurant in search of him. From there, a friendship blossoms, as does Hanzo's feelings. Of course, nothing is ever easy and it seems the world is out to keep them apart.





	1. Chapter 1

"Talk to him."

 

Hanzo flinches and just barely suppresses the urge to turn and smack his brother. It doesn't actually matter, not really. He knows the cat-like reflexes his brother possesses, and even with his back turned, he knows that Genji immediately danced out of harm’s way. So there's no real risk of accidentally knocking his lights out. Of course, Genji takes that luxury for granted and returns just as quickly, hooking his chin over Hanzo's shoulder with a shit eating grin. He repeats the request, this time at a low hiss because the subject of their discussion is approaching the door. Hanzo reaches back, grabs a handful of Genji's offensively green hair, and yanks as hard as he can. Genji lets out an undignified squawk, but gets the message and stops talking. Even Genji with his thick skull understands that, were Hanzo’s crush to become public knowledge, their reconciliation might get set back a few punches. 

 

Hanzo quickly swats Genji away as the bell above the door jingles, echoed by the jingle of their friend's spurs. A soft “howdy” and a tipped hat is tossed in their direction as he enters, all long legs and relaxed swagger. Genji mutters something to himself and smirks at Hanzo before hopping the counter to harass their friend. 

 

_ Their friend _ is a loose term that Hanzo likes to pretend he's worthy of using.  _ Their friend _ is more like  _ Genji's best friend _ and  _ Hanzo's favorite eye candy that sometimes says hello to him. _ Hello meaning howdy and eye candy meaning Jesse McCree. Hanzo mentally smacks himself when his heart rate picks up at just the thought of Jesse. For the past few months, Hanzo has tried very desperately to get him out of his head. Nothing has come of his efforts, which of course would be Hanzo's luck, but at least he has enough wits about him to pin down why. 

 

Jesse McCree is a mammoth of a man. His stature, his voice, his smile, his general personality... mammoth. Hanzo's mouth runs dry every time he sees him, an unusual show of attraction that Genji will never let him live down. For the longest time, everyone attributed Hanzo's romantic reservation to him simply being shy and awkward. True as that may be, Hanzo has taken to maintaining that it's because Hanamura just doesn't make men like Jesse. Big, roguish, and covered with thick dark hair in all the right places. It's like Jesse was created just to push all of Hanzo's well disciplined buttons, and, to add insult to injury, the gods had plopped a big, stupid cowboy hat on top of his unruly locks. 

 

Not only that, but Jesse seems to find no interest in Hanzo aside from a carefully distant friendship. With Genji he's all hugs and smiles and "good ol’ fashioned southern comfort." With Hanzo he's polite and gentlemanly and vaguely cryptic. And it's not like Hanzo's jealous. Genji and Jesse have been best friends for as long as Hanzo's been back in Genji's life, whereas Jesse didn't really meet Hanzo until a few months ago when Genji had to be driven home from a party. A cowboy cradling his drunken brother was a very unwelcome surprise at 4am on a Tuesday, but a name and a number from said cowboy had made it slightly better. 

 

Aside from that, though, Hanzo really has no claim to Jesse's companionship. 

At first, he wasn't so sure of his attraction it Jesse. Physically, he easily admis that Jesse ticks just about every box. Hanzo finds no shame in lust. He often wishes it would be directed toward beautiful women as opposed to beautiful men, but with great intervention from Genji and his mentor, Zenyatta, Hanzo's come to slowly accept himself for who he is. So physical attraction isn't his issue. 

 

His issue is that he wakes up every Wednesday morning looking forward to when Jesse will stroll through the door at 12 o'clock sharp. A great honor, according to Genji, because  _ 12 o'clock is high noon and high noon is McCree time! _

 

Whatever the fuck that means. 

 

Nevertheless, he looks forward to it. Looks forward to hearing his soft deep voice greeting the brothers from the doorway. Looks forward to his stupid hat tipping and contagious half smile. Looks forward to hearing Genji laugh like he did before the incident. Looks forward to getting to be within 10 feet of him. It's awful, really, how much he looks forward to. Genji laughed his ass off the first time he caught Hanzo staring, which resulted in Genji getting his ass handed to him as soon as they arrived home. Satisfying, but even punching his dumb kid brother can't fix his emotional turmoil. 

 

Back in Hanamura, all Hanzo was expected to do was lead a crime syndicate, generate more money so he could continue to live in luxury, and kill anyone who got in his way. An easy enough life, at least up until the incident. Now, in America, Hanzo runs a much smaller and more legal business, his precious restaurant, and he's expected to fix his relationship with Genji, keep a watchful eye for his enemies without outright murdering anyone, and sort through his many mixed emotions about one Jesse McCree. 

 

Technically he should be grateful for what he has, but really, Hanamura almost sounds appealing when Genji hops the counter and very bluntly demands Hanzo attend an upcoming party. 

 

"Jesse is having a get-together."

 

"No."

 

"Yes! And you're invited!"

 

"I don't want to be invited you absolute piece of shit."

 

"Hey now, don't knock it till you try it. Him. Try him." Genji narrowly dodges the pen Hanzo lobs at him. "Sorry, sorry. But I'm serious. He wants to know you better."

 

"That's a lie."

 

"Maybe. He hasn't said it outright, but I can tell. I'm not saying he likes you back, but I'm his best friend and he wants to know the only family I have."

 

"Does he know yet?"

 

"Know what?"

 

"Don't play dumb with me. Does he know?"

 

“I mean, he knows something happened because sometimes I take my clothes off when I'm drunk and lucky Jesse has gotten an eyeful, butI still haven't told him."

 

"I... don't consider that lucky but ok."

 

"Hey, I'm fucking sexy! But yeah, all he knows is that I got sliced and diced. Just not by you. Have I ever thanked you, by the way?"

 

"Uh... what?"

 

"Y'know..." Genji gestures to his crotch. "Thanks for leaving the family jewels intact. I had to take out one of my nipple rings, but thanks for leaving my dick."

 

Hanzo glares and angrily wipes down a counter. Well, as angrily as one can wipe down any surface. 

 

"I was aiming to kill you, dumbass, not castrate you. How can you even joke about that though? You nearly died, and I got off by running away."

 

Genji lets out a long suffering sigh. The nature of their individual departures from Hanamura is an argument they’ve had many times. 

 

"Let the past die, Hanzo. You were once my brother, never my enemy. Let us be brothers once more."

 

"I am always your brother."

 

"So you say. But tell me, when was the last time you smiled?"

 

Hanzo opens his mouth to reply, but his mind blanks. Smiled? When was the last time he smiled? Hanzo grits his teeth and bites back a scathing remark. Genji just raises an eyebrow at his silence and hops the counter again. 

 

"As I thought. I will tell Jesse that we're both attending his party. I know someone who you'll like, and her name isn't Jesse."


	2. Chapter 2

The party isn’t terrible.

That's what Hanzo keeps telling himself in an effort to stay sane. It isn't terrible, just tedious. The people aren’t any more irritating than people in general. In fact, many of Genji's friends are very pleasant. For example, the young gamer named Hana Song had taken one look at him and shot him a quick salute before dropping onto the couch and whipping out her phone. Genji muttered in his ear that she was a veteran of the Korean military and used her gaming as a coping mechanism, so please don't put her down for her electronics. Hanzo gained an immediate respect for her and vowed to speak with her at a later time.

Immediately after that encounter, he was introduced to Jack, Gabe, and Reinhardt, all old war veterans who ended up being less intimidating than their appearances would suggest. Hanzo thinks they'll serve as great bitching buddies. Genji cursed someone named Ana for being in Egypt and not here meeting Hanzo, but, based on what Genji's said about her in the past, he's a little frightened to meet her.

More introductions drag on and on and on until Hanzo can barely remember the new faces. He desperately wishes that Zenyatta had tagged along to be weird and supportive, but instead he's swamped and overwhelmed with people who call him friend without knowing what he's done.

And of course, there's Jesse.

Jesse in his kitchen with a petite blonde lady and they're whispering and darting their eyes at Hanzo every few minutes. Jesse has a spatula in one hand and an electric mixer in the other and he's whipping up something that smells divine. The woman is unhelpfully sitting on the counter and taking large sips out of what appears to be Jesse's coffee mug.

Hanzo feels a spike of jealousy at that.

"Are they dating?" Hanzo mutters in Japanese. Genji just turns from where he's draped over a short Brazilian man and raises an unhelpful eyebrow.

"No?"

"Oh. Ok. Good."

"I'm telling Angie you're jealous."

"Is she the blonde lady? You will do no such thing."

Genji just grins wickedly before sweeping the man (Lucio?) into his arms and bouncing into the kitchen. He says something in a rapid-fire language that Hanzo doesn't understand, and it takes him a moment to realize it's German. Of fucking course Genji can speak German. The lady, this Angela, turns and frowns at Hanzo. She flicks Genji on the ear before moving towards him.

Hanzo will deny until the day he dies that he tries to use Reinhardt as a big human shield.

"So you're Hanzo."

He peeks out from behind Reinhardt.

"Yes."

"Hm. Come with me, if you would." It isn’t a request, and she doesn't even give Hanzo time to answer. She turns on her heel and heads for the back porch. Unfortunately, that means going through the kitchen. Jesse nods in greeting.

"Howdy, pardner. Angie got you cornered?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Eh, you'll be fine, ‘long as she's not pissed at you. She's a sweet lady, but goddamn if she don't got a mouth on her."

"I will keep that in mind. Now, excuse me." Hanzo brushes past Jesse, squashing down the part of him that wants to linger.

Angela barely glances at him as he pads quietly onto the porch. She’s looking at something on her phone and nursing her mug of coffee. Now that he’s closer he can see it has garish but somehow cute cactus designs around it. He slides the glass door shut behind him and sits when she motions to the chair next to her.

“Greetings,” he starts, unsure but wary of her intentions.

“I’m not here for small talk, Mr. Ito,” she says, clipped and professional. “Or should I say, Mr. Shimada?”

“Please, not so loudly,” he winces, instinctively glancing around for eavesdroppers. When he finds them to be alone, he cautiously turns back to her. “I’m assuming that means Genji told you everything.”

“Indeed.”

“May I ask why?”

“It’s very hard to keep things from your doctor.”

“You… are the one who saved him?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, I owe you a great thanks. You have no idea how indebted I am to you.”

“No need for that. It was my joy and privilege to aide him. Saving a life is the most rewarding part of my profession.”

“You have a kind heart.”

“Thank you. I like to think I have a forgiving one, too.”

“I am not expecting that of you.”

“That is irrelevant. While I have my reservations about you, it would be dishonest of me to say that everyone in this house is a shining star of morality. We have all done things we regret, and I am still a friend and caretaker to them all. I cannot let every past action cloud my judgement of people.”

“None in this house have killed their brother.”

“You don’t know that,” she counters, raising an eyebrow. A challenge to respond. He grits his teeth to keep from snapping and she laughs. “You see what I mean? If I didn’t know you were a kinslayer, I think I would like you. Not that I dislike you. But I would like to hear a few things from your own perspective. Genji is a bit of an exaggerator.”

Hanzo laughs, then. It is always a relief to hear how little his brother has changed at a fundamental level.

“Yes, that has not changed in over 30 years.” A bit of tension leaves his shoulders. “What would you like to know?”

“A lot, but I guess it all boils down to this - why did you do it?”

"I..." Hanzo looks away. He hasn't told anyone this. No one has ever asked. Even Zenyatta said he didn't care. 

I only care that you repent. 

Perhaps it's best that Hanzo doesn't get off that easy with everyone. Perhaps this Angela is what he needs to confront himself. 

"It is a long story."

"We have time."

"They won't come looking?"

"They know not to disturb me. And most of them have forgotten your name."

"Wow... that makes me feel… so special."

"It is a good thing," she laughs. "It means they haven't put you on a hit list. They will learn your name with time."

"Interesting interpretation."

"I grew up with them."

"I see."

"But back to the issue at hand. Why?"

"I saw no other choice."

"There is always another choice."

"No. Not in my family."

"Genji doesn't seem to ascribe to that."

"Genji was not their heir," Hanzo growls. "You cannot understand my trials." 

His hands curls into fists and he grits his teeth. Of course she doesn't understand. What could this Westerner know of tradition? Of familial loyalty?

"Explain it to me then, instead of losing your temper."

"I would not lose my temper if you weren't so ignorant and accusatory."

"That's not an excuse. You must rein in your anger even when the situation isn't ideal. None of us are perfect people, you especially should know that. I taught the same lesson to Genji when he ripped my office to shreds and put a knife to my throat. Now uncurl your fists, take a deep breath, and explain your situation to me. Genji prefers to tell tall tales about late arcade nights and boozy sex and the punishment he endured. From what I've gathered, he knows next to nothing about what you went through."

Hanzo glares at her, but is simply met with ocean blue eyes rolling at his anger and a patient sip of coffee. He debates storming inside, grabbing Genji, and leaving, but he's not here to make a scene. He's here to repent. He slowly unclenches his fist and smooths his hand against his sweatpants. 

"Fine. I was groomed from a very young age to be the perfect Shimada heir. I spent most of my time in lessons, and when Genji was born, I was allowed one hour a day to see him. Our playtime was short until sparring and training became play - then they allowed us more time. Genji and my father were the closest thing to family I had. My mother died when I was 7. She was sent to assassinate a rising yakuza family head, then killed herself after she found that the head was a 13-year-old child. She saw herself in that little girl, created and molded from an early age to serve a cause that wasn't hers, and she couldn't bear the guilt of taking a child's life. I didn't find out the cause of her death until my father died, and I read his journal..."

Hanzo trails off and blinks back a few tears. The subject of his parents' deaths is always hard. He takes a shuddering breath and presses on. 

"Genji was not held to the same standard as me. When I was training to kill, he was training Pokémon. When I was reading manuscripts and scholarly journals, he was reading comic books. Every time he got caught sneaking out at night, they slapped him once and sent him to bed. I snuck out one time and they caught me. They whipped me until I passed out, shaved my head, branded me, and told me if I ever did such a thing again, they would mutilate me and leave my corpse to rot on the streets."

Hanzo laughs bitterly and glances over at Angela. She has a hand over her mouth, tears starting to gather in her eyes. The demon on his shoulder scoffs at her pity reaction. Now she understands. 

"The abuse worsened when they caught me in bed with a man. We were merely kissing, as I had taken a vow of celibacy before I even understood what celibacy was, but it was enough. Bad enough that I'd snuck someone into the castle. Worse that it was a man. See, even in these years, the Shimada were overly traditional. Anything less than perfection was scorned, and homosexuality fell under the category of imperfection. That was... that was the first time I had to kill someone. They had him kneel in front of me and watch me swing my sword at his neck. His eyelids were cut off, so he had to watch my face and see his death the entire time." 

"What was his name?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It may help you come to terms with it if you say his name."

"I have already come to terms with it. He is my moment of sunshine. Don't ruin it for me."

"Ok. What happened after that?"

"I became ruthless. They sent me on assassination mission, just like my mother. My father strongly opposed my treatment, but he could do nothing in the face of the elders. Father may have been the official clan head, but the elders were the masks that drew the puppet strings. I became their living weapon and I didn't question orders lest I become a target myself."

"And Genji?"

"Genji remained free. For a long time, I believed I was sacrificing myself to save him. Then they turned me against him. Lies were whispered in my ear that he was a traitor, that he was plotting to kill me. And I foolishly believed them. Genji was the last person left who loved me, and I let the elders sway me. I will never forgive myself for that."

“But you still listened to them.”

“You Westerners don’t have the same social ideas about family. You are encouraged to leave the nest and become your own person. Your parents are a kite string, not an anchor. In my life, the clan was the be all to end all. Had I simply joined a street gang, I would have chosen Genji without looking back. Instead, I faced a conflict of interest. Genji was family, yes, but so was the rest of the clan. And in my culture, the elders are always right. Many Japanese people no longer ascribe to this ideal, but the Shimada is a family of old. We… They value tradition. And tradition dictated that I listen to the elders of the family rather than my wayward brother. I did not even mean to kill him.”

“Simply to maim?”

“Not even. I approached him with a stern lecture, but he refused to listen. As you have seen, we both have short fuses. Something happened and we snapped. Swords were drawn, and eventually, we summoned our dragons. You see, Genji had always outdone me in sparring. He is quicker and lighter on his feet, and somehow dodged every move I made. But he did not wish to truly harm me, and so his dragon was not aiming to kill. My emotions boiled over and all I felt was rage. Rage for the death of our parents, rage for the life I was trapped in, rage for Genji’s freedom, and rage for our dying brotherhood. I released it all in a storm of my dragons, and then I fled. I could not face what I had done. I was a coward.”

“You felt remorse, then?”

“Immensely. I was the one who summoned Overwatch. I knew it was the only organization that could save him and help him into civilian life.”

“Do you know who was dispatched to rescue him?”

“No. Well, you, I suppose, but he has been very conservative with details. He won’t even tell me what he was doing before he decided to seek me out.”

“I can tell you some of it, if you’d like. He has sworn me to secrecy with some details, but I’m free to share the moments you missed. I only ask one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Tell me about the boy you knew.”


	3. Chapter 3

Ultimately, Hanzo goes home exhausted.

Genji had bounced between hanging off Lucio and poking his head out onto the porch to check on Hanzo and Angela, probably to make sure they were getting along. Not a problem, really, because after the initial awkwardness and slight amnesty, Angela was a very charming woman. She matched Hanzo’s wit blow for blow as they traded stories about Genji. They filled in the gaps of the 32 years they collectively missed, the Genji neither of them got to see grow up, and they wonder what happened in Nepal to deliver them this man with a wild heart and gentle soul. This man with green hair and blue veins and eyes like a sunset reflecting off a cup of hot tea.

He loves you very much

Not as much as he loves you all.

Not true. He never stops talking about you

That does not equate to love.

You cannot see the way he looks at you

Well.

Hanzo had never considered the possibility of love. Brotherhood, perhaps, but never love. Never the little boy slipping his grubby hand into a hand with 3 more years of calluses because the thunder of his new dragon scared him. Never the playground bruises and secrets whispered under the slide, or the dares to see who could jump from the highest branch, if only you will catch me. Never curling up in the same bed because father was yelling at the elders again and they were making the castle shake. Never the closeness, never the trust, never the love.

And yet.

Write about it, maybe

I’m not much of a writer.

Just put your pen on the page and flow like water.

Is it truly that simple?

I guess you better find out.

And so, he did. And now, exhausted at home, he closes the cover on the page that hasn’t dried all the way. The words stick to his brain, dance in his vision, and he thinks he’s not much of a poet. But then again, neither is his particular brand of living.

Morning of buttered toast; of coffee, sweetened with milk.   
Sip, but remember a preference for tea  
and a distant love for jam.  
How easy it is to forget the little things.  
Yeats later, off comes the mask  
and peace is made with memories  
and good company.  
Morning of jellied toast;  
of tea, sweetened with brotherhood.

It’s not love. Not yet. Hanzo can’t stand the thought of being loved right now. He can’t imagine loving the person who destroyed you. Unfathomable that he’s blessed with a brother with a heart of gold, of forgiveness, of peace. He will accept brotherhood for now.

Angela said Genji was once angry. Hanzo almost wishes he’d stayed angry. All the better for Hanzo to loathe himself. Angela scolded him for that wish. She assures him that Genji is better off healed. And that one time, Genji disclosed to her that he is nearly grateful for the damages done. It got him out of Hanamura and landed Hanzo back by his side. Perhaps in a twisted, sick, bastardized way, but they are reunited in happiness. Together as they never were before. Two boys, broken beyond belief, in a country across the Pacific Ocean and good friends surrounding them.

He supposes it could be worse.


	4. Chapter 4

It started out like this. 

Genji was in Nepal with Zenyatta. Something about a spiritual retreat and a reunion for Zen's monastery. Genji accompanied him because, between the two brothers, Genji was more enthusiastic about the spiritual aspect of their therapy. Hanzo opted to stay behind and run the restaurant on his own. He didn't have time to put a hold on life and cleanse his soul. He didn't deserve that type of peace. 

So off they went with promises to not return with any small animals this time and to take plenty of pictures. A whirlwind of packing and bookings and where is my scarf, and then Hanzo was abruptly left to a few months of strange silence with no suspicious loud noises from the kitchen or weird cryptic catch phrases. They weren't allowed technology, either, so he didn't even wake up to the annoying ringtone Genji set for himself. It was... lonely. Hanzo didn't know how he'd ever lived without his brother. At night he yearned for their impromptu movie parties, even the ones that ended in fights. He found himself sleeping with Genji's pachimari plushie as a childish way to remind himself that Genji would return. He would be safe. For the first week he accidentally set breakfast for two - 7 cracked plates sat in the sink for another week. His life became bland, just motions, and he counted the days until they would return. 

Then, in walked Jesse McCree. 

He came in on a Wednesday afternoon, 12pm sharp, asking after a Genji Ito. Hanzo had been playing Candy Crush on his phone and barely glanced up as he informed the stranger that Genji was out of town. The stranger had muttered something about "inconsiderate bitch don't tell me where he skips off to" and asked if Hanzo knew when he'd be back. Hanzo told him he didn't know, but told him to check back later in a month or two. The stranger grunted in affirmation and left the store. Hanzo rolled his eyes and thought that would be the end of it. 

No such luck. The stranger came in the next day and ordered food and some sake. He didn't make eye contact and paid in cash, so Hanzo couldn't sneak a glance at a name or card number. But this time Hanzo looked up from his phone and noticed that he was dressed very distinctly. 

He had on faded blue jeans, a bit frayed but otherwise intact. The red flannel button down he wore had one too many buttons undone, the poor fabric straining to contain his barrel chest. Around his neck he had a bandana tied, which Hanzo found strange since it was blazing hot outside. And to top it all off, he wore honest to god cowboy boots (with spurs) and tipped the old Stetson on top of dark unruly hair. He even said howdy. 

Hanzo was baffled, to say the least. In all his time in America, he hadn't encountered a cowboy. He thought they were archaic images of the past. The original American Dream from stories of horses and sandstorms. But apparently Genji knew a modern-day one. Which, in hindsight, was not surprising in itself. His brother had always attracted a strange crowd. It was more surprising that Genji had never mentioned this friend. Hanzo found himself fixated on the stranger, how he was indeed strange, and how he seemed to come and go like a ghost or an electric shock. He decided to refer to the stranger as Joel until he could get a name - it seemed fitting for a cowboy. But he swore he would get a name before Genji returned. 

Joel continued to come in every Wednesday at 12pm without fail. During that time, he wouldn't do much besides sit in the farthest corner and type on a sleek laptop that looked way out of either of their budget. Perhaps the western ensemble was misleading, but Hanzo suspected Joel wasn't using it for pleasure. That intrigued him, and he wondered what he did for a living. 

Hanzo also noticed that Joel didn't smile. If he wasn't on his laptop, he would brood and stare into space. A permanent scowl had seemed to etch itself onto his face, not unlike Hanzo's own demeanor, but something about him seemed heavy and bitter beyond his years. Even the faint laugh lines around his eyes seemed unused. Hanzo would occasionally sneak glances at him to make sure he was alright, but never too long in case Joel shook himself out of it and noticed. 

During that time, it came to Hanzo's attention that Joel was attractive. Not in a particularly loud way that would have someone like Genji on his knees in a second. No. Joel was attractive in a dark and rugged way. The kind of attractive that had Hanzo forget what words were when rare eye contact was made and distracted him on long lonely nights. The kind that made his stomach swoop and his knees go weak if he imagined being pinned beneath those rough hands or pressing himself along that broad back. Hanzo dreamed about his smooth deep voice and the smell of sunshine and smoke, and woke up wishing for tanned arms around him. 

And that was that, that was fine, that was the longing that Hanzo deserved to inflict upon himself. 

Of course, nothing is that simple and Hanzo's traitorous heart decided to develop a crush. A crush on a man who didn't say much and paid in cash and who was only there for Genji. Hanzo tried not to be worried by the implications of that since Genji had expressed interest in another friend for a long while, but Hanzo also knew Genji. Knew that Genji was perfectly capable of having multiple beaus. Hanzo was surprised to find that the thought stung, like pressing salt against an open wound. He was less surprised to find that the sting made him angry. Genji deserved anyone he wanted. If Genji wanted Joel, Genji could have him. Who was Hanzo to ever stand in the way of his brother's happiness again?

Then, soon after, another thought struck. What if Joel was straight? That was a splash of ice water on his senses. Of course there was no guarantee that Joel would be interested in men at all. For all of Hanzo's previous life, the only queer people he knew were himself and Genji. Perhaps Joel would be revolted by the thought of Hanzo pining after him. Hanzo's heart plummeted, but he was ok with it. There certainly would be a sick sort of justice if Hanzo was left to want. 

And then there was the issue of danger. He knew nothing about Joel. No name, no workplace, no identity. All he knew was that Joel looked dangerously clever and perfectly capable of anything. What if he knew about Hanzo's past transgressions against Genji and hated him for it? What if he was sitting in his corner and plotting how best to kill Hanzo without anyone noticing? 

Hanzo's paranoia spiked. It wasn't fair - not to Joel and not to Genji, but years of watching his back had him worried. What if the clan hired him? What if he was a bounty hunter? What if Genji had given too many details and there was a hit out to bring an attempted murderer to justice? 

These thoughts invaded his waking time, yet as exhaustive as they were, sleep eluded him. Vivid dreams of sun-kissed skin and an unsmiling mouth brought him no rest and he would lay awake for hours afterward. He was wearing himself thin being pulled between lust and paranoia. It drove him mad to go to sleep with his hand on a gun only to wake up rutting against the bedsheets. 

Dark circles had started to make their home under his eyes by the time Genii returned. His exhaustion didn't go unnoticed, but Genji was kind enough to not bring it up until they were home. 

"What troubles you?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. You can talk to me, y'know. I don't bite."

"That's not what your boyfriends said."

"Hey, I had girlfriends too, and ok fair point." Genji paused and flopped down on the couch, silent for once. Hanzo hoped the subject was closed. Genji opened his stupid mouth again. It was not closed. "But seriously, what's wrong?"

Hanzo sighed and lifted Genji's legs out of the way so he could sit, carefully setting them across his lap. He debated ignoring the question and turning on the TV. When he reached for the remote, Genji dug his heels into the meat of his thigh, causing him to yelp and glare. 

"Tell me what's wrong, bitch. I'm here to provide emotional support for your feelings that are like a tiny withered plant. I promise I can help more than brooding can."

"I hate you," Hanzo muttered. He forced himself to take even breaths. "Fine. I met a man."

"Oh yeah?" Genji's face split into a shit eating grin and he wiggled his eyebrows. "Has he been,” Genji made an obscence motion, “keeping you up?"

Hanzo groaned and covered his face. 

"He has, hasn't he!!! Oh my god, my big bitch of a brother is finally getting laid!"

"It's not like that, fuckhead."

"Uh huh sure," Genji said, dramatically drawing out the last word. "What's his name?"

"I do not know."

"Mystery stranger! I like it."

"What? No! I haven't slept with him. He doesn't even speak to me."

"Kinky!"

"Genji!"

"What? Am I wrong?"

"Yes, you're very wrong you dick! I've been staring at him from afar when he comes in every Wednesday at 12 o'clock. He doesn't smile and he was asking for you."

"He doesn't smile and he was ask- oh! Oh ok, yeah, I know him."

Genji suddenly froze, all the color draining from his face. 

"You slept with Jesse!?"

"For the last time, I didn't sleep with anyone, you absolute piece of shit." Hanzo threw a pillow at him and flopped back with a groan. "Thank you for telling me his name, though."

"You could've just asked him yourself."

"Yes I realize this, but, he's y'know," Hanzo waved his hand around helplessly, grasping for a word to accurately describe him. 

"Dark? Brooding? Intimidatingly handsome and you can't handle attraction?" 

"Shut the fuck up. He simply seemed uninterested, so I didn't bother to burden him."

"You liiiiiiiike him."

"I'm going to punch you."

Genji gasped, mock offended, and pulled his collar down to expose a swath of scars. "But brother! Haven't you wounded me enough!?"

Hanzo snarled and threw an empty cup at him. "That's not funny."

"I know," Genji all but cackled, easily catching the cup and carefully setting it on a coaster. Hanzo blinked. The old Genji never used coasters. "But that's the kind of humor Jesse appreciates."

"Does he know?"

Genji's smile just about melted off his face and he stilled. He opened his mouth to respond, then seemed to rethink something. He repeated the action. Hanzo's fists curled and he dug his nails into his own skin. He swallowed the lump in his throat. 

"No."

"Ah. Perhaps I should tell him?"

"Heh. No. Jesse doesn't give a damn about your redemption. He's more interested in his own redemption."

"What's his crime?"

"That's for him to tell." 

Genji stood then, staring down at Hanzo for a second before laughing and turning toward his room. Hanzo didn't ask what was so funny and Genji didn't say. The door to Genji's room shut with a soft click, followed immediately by the sound of a Genji tripping over a suitcase and cursing. 10 minutes later Genji flung open the door in a skimpy but admittedly fashionable outfit. 

"I'm going out! Zenyatta made me swear not to fuck any of the villagers so I severely need to get laid. Don't wait up for me!"

Hanzo didn't even have time to think about stopping Genji before the front door slammed shut. The silence was deafening. Hanzo went to bed grumbling about his shit brother, but secretly grateful for the return to normalcy. 

He woke up 3 hours later to loud banging on the front door. 

He assumed it was Genji and that he was just too hammered to get his keys out. So Hanzo left his hair in wild disarray and didn't bother putting on anything but a pair of briefs. He cursed the day his father decided to have a second son because honestly, waking up at 4am to care for his inebriated baby brother was getting old. Of course, he immediately regretted the thought and scolded himself for wishing Genji any other way than he was. Still, the early morning routine was irritating. He yanked the door open, poised to start an angry rant, when he realized who exactly was at the door. 

It was his shit brother hanging off the arm of a very familiar cowboy. 

"Uh," Hanzo managed eloquently. 

"Howdy," Jesse drawled. His eyes stayed politely glued to a point just left of Hanzo's head. "The name's Jesse. I come into your restaurant sometimes."

"Yes, I remember. Pardon my appearance." Hanzo resisted the urge to self consciously fix his hair. Instead he bowed stiffly at the waist. "Hanzo, at your service."

The corner of Jesse's mouth twitched up at the corner. "Nice to finally meet you. I brought you a present."

"Yes I see." Hanzo reached out and allowed Genji to flop into his arms. "Thank you for getting him home safely."

"Ain't a thing, sugar. Sorry for the early hour."

"Don't worry, I'm used to it."

Jesse laughed, then. Hanzo just about swooned from the sound and from finally seeing him smile. Instead he hefted Genji up and started backing inside. 

"Would you like to come in for a bit? I have tea."

"Naw, I'm gonna head on home. This little fucker knocked on my door thinking he'd made it here. Thank god he didn't try Reyes' house."

Hanzo had no idea who Reyes was, but he smiled and nodded politely anyways. "Yes, I'm glad he was in good hands. In that case, goodnight. Thank you again, and please drive safely."

"Thank ya kindly. I'll see you around, Hanzo."

And then Jesse had shut the door and left Hanzo with his garbage can. 

"You're a garbage can," he said mildly, tossing Genji over his shoulder and hauling him to his room. "I'm telling Zenyatta that you did this again."

Genji just whined in response. Hanzo ignored his half assed protests and stripped him down to his briefs before none too gently dropping him into bed. Genji immediately rolled over and curled around a pillow. Hanzo resisted the urge to draw on him in sharpie and instead left painkillers and a tall glass of water on the bedside table. He nudged the trash can closer to the side of the bed just in case, and pulled the covers over Genji before quietly slipping out. 

Hanzo returned to his room, mind already on Jesse and how good he looked in sweatpants and a hoodie, and also how he had absolutely ruined any romantic chance ever by opening the door in his underwear and a bedhead. The only hope he had left was that his Adonis physique was a favorable sight that overshadowed anything else. Perhaps his abs looked especially good or something. He looked in the mirror over his dresser and flexed, only to immediately feel foolish. 

"It doesn't matter, Hanzo," he scolded himself. "He is a just a man who won't look you in the eye."

He resisted the urge to shatter the mirror and instead flung himself into bed. Resigned to another restless night, he curled around a pillow and didn't notice the text from an unknown number.


	5. Chapter 5

After the party, Genji's friends somehow make a home with Hanzo. Many of them become regulars to the restaurant. Hana asks for a job and Hanzo happily hires her. Ana returns from Egypt and roasts the life out of him before patting him on the shoulder and welcoming him. Jack and Gabriel have weekly dates that sometimes end in shouting matches, but mostly seem like reconciliation. Fareeha comes in a helps fix all the things Hanzo could never afford to fix, like the burned out bulbs in the kitchen. Jesse starts hanging around even more and also starts making conversation. 

Hanzo learns that his favorite color is blue but he doesn't think he looks good in it, his favorite music isn’t country but rather indie music (“because it’s soothing”), he's ambidextrous, he lives alone in an apartment downtown but likes to couch surf, and his drink of choice is whiskey (although he never says no to a good bottle of sake). Sometimes Gabe comes in to drag Jesse away for days before returning him with a gruff and insincere apology. Hanzo's not quite sure where they run off to, but Genji told him it's safer not to ask. Then, in a teasing voice, adds on to it. 

"You're lucky he even talks to you."

"Why?"

"Because Jesse struggles to make new friends and you struggle to not be a sourpuss."

"I'm not a sourpuss and Jesse seems friendly enough."

"I mean, yeah he's nice, but like, he actually likes being around you. That's a miracle! He can be such a downer sometimes."

"Well I am grateful for his companionship."

"Oh yeah," Genji snickers while winking lasciviously. "You definitely love his companionship."

"Don't be crass."

"I'm just saying..."

"Well stop. I'm doing my best not to get my hopes up."

"Just ask him to dinner you idiot. The worst that can happen is he says no."

"Precisely. That is literally the worst that can happen."

"You're so over dramatic."

"So are you. At least I look good doing it."

"Lucio thinks I look good."

"Then he must be in dire need of company."

"You're so mean to me," Genji pouts. Hanzo almost feels bad, except Genji perks up as soon as the bell jingles and Jesse strolls in. 

"Jesse! Hanzo has a question!"

Hanzo groans and covers his face. 

"He's lying. I don't have a question."

"No he totally has a question, he's just too shy to ask."

"There is no question," Hanzo insists. Unfortunately, he can feel a slight flush creeping over his cheeks. He turns away and pretends to be busy in hopes that no one notices. No such luck. Genji starts cackling and vaults the counter to jump on Jesse. 

"Look, Hanzo's blushing! Jesse, ask him what he wants. He'll listen to you."

"I ain't pryin, if he truly don't wanna tell me," Jesse responds as he tries to peel Genji off of him. Hanzo decides he's probably a literal angel. No mortal man could shut down that sort of curiosity with such sweetness while wrestling with a highly trained ninja. Unfortunately, said ninja is probably a literal demon and holds fast while turning to address Hanzo. 

"If you won't tell him, I will. And you won't like the way I phrase it."

"Don't you dare."

"Oh, but I do dare, sweet sweet Hanzo."

"Do not."

"Too late."

"Genji!"

"Hanzo wants to su-"

"Iwanttogoonadatewithyou."

Hanzo covers his mouth. He absolutely did not mean to say that. Genji's mouth is hanging open, surprised that Hanzo actually interrupted him. Jesse is... well. Jesse's not doing much of anything. He's sort of looking between the two brothers, thinking about the situation. Hanzo thinks about fleeing and moving to a different country. Australia, maybe. It seems like there's plenty of options for weird animals to "accidentally" kill him. The plane fare wouldn't be so bad. He wouldn't need any heavy clothing. And Genji and Jesse would never ever find him. Hanzo thinks the plan is quite sound. 

Finally, Jesse opens his mouth. 

"I ain't playing this game."

Hanzo blinks. Well. Not the response he was excepting. 

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. I ain't playing this game. It's not funny to toss a man's heart around like a toy. Y'all choose a different man to play with."

"I - what?" Hanzo manages. "I am not playing a game. I want to go to dinner with you."

"See, I just got a hard time believing that."

"Why?"

"Because you've never been the dating type. Plus, Genji's a prankster and he's got you wrapped 'round his little finger."

"I would never hurt you."

"I know. Which is why I'm stopping the game here. Ya made your joke. Now I'm gonna head on home and we can forget this ever happened. I suggest prankin’ Zenyatta or something. He'll get a real kick outta it. Later, fellas."

Jesse gives a small half-smile before easily removing the now lax Genji and nearly running out the door. Hanzo is left in stunned silence. He can hardly believe it. Why would Jesse think he was playing a game? Had he given the impression that he didn't like Jesse? He turns to Genji, but he seems just as lost. 

"Hanzo..."

"It's fine," he snaps, flipping the light on the open sign off. "Jesse does not care for me. I'll get over it."

"I probably made it worse by teasing."

"Don't. Neither of us knew he would react that way."

"I should've! I'm his best friend! He's never given any indication that he doesn't like romance."

"Perhaps he was content to watch you sleep around and baby sit you when you fucked up."

"Don't be mean."

"Sorry. I'm in a bit of a bad mood in case you couldn't tell."

"Yeah well... maybe that's why he doesn't like you."

"Excuse me?"

"You're just such an asshole when you don't get your way. And you always take it out on me. Usually I don't mind because I take full responsibility for being irresponsible, but I'm not your punching bag. I was trying to help this time. And I'm sorry he acted like that, but don't be an asswipe about it." 

"I... I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Maybe you should talk to Angela. She has more patience than me. And everyone tells her everything so she probably knows what Jesse's deal is."

"I will try. Thank you."

"Yeah whatever." Genji rolls his eyes before whipping his phone out and leaving the restaurant. Hana pokes her head out from the kitchen and raises an eyebrow. 

"What was that all about?"

"Nothing. Just Genji being difficult."

"Oof, that's rough. I'm here for both of you."

"Thank you. And I, for you. You've become a dear friend to me."

"Glad to hear it. Now go fix your shit with Jesse. I’ll close for you two.”


	6. Chapter 6

Angela has an open door policy. Sometimes Hanzo thinks she takes that too literally when she leaves her front door propped open so whoever wants to can stroll on in. To him, it seems reckless and far too trusting. She assures him she can deal with intruders and also there’s a low crime rate in her neighborhood, but he still has his misgivings. As he can easily prove, some people move silently and can catch her unaware. Even though she knows the door is open, she still jumps when Hanzo stops in the doorway to the kitchen and clears his throat. 

"Hanzo! Good god, I need to put a bell on you. You and Genji are both terrible about sneaking around."

"Apologies. I just wished to speak with you."

"Of course! Just as soon as a treat the heart attack you just gave me. Is something the matter?"

"Perhaps. Do you promise to keep everything I say to yourself?"

"Unless it poses a threat to yourself or others, I'm bound to patient confidentiality. So talk away."

"It's about Jesse."

"Oh? What'd the little rascal do this time?"

"Well, nothing really. It's more what Genji did and how Jesse reacted. I have to confess something before I can explain, but you have to promise not to laugh."

"I would never."

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“If we were in friendship mode, I would certainly laugh, but you want professional Angela right now. And as I like to say, ask and you shall receive. I promise not to laugh.”

"Ok. Well. Here goes nothing I guess. I have... feelings for Jesse. At first I dismissed it as a passing crush, or perhaps the product of a lonely heart, but he's worked his way into my life, for better or for worse. He said I didn’t seem like the type for romance, and I suppose he’s right, but I just feel so stringly about him. I mean, he mentioned he liked a certain hairstyle and I considered cutting my hair! Can you imagine cutting your hair for a boy? How foolish of me. Not only that, but I haven’t had much in the way of experience. I don’t know how to be someone’s partner, and I certainly don’t know how to be particularly sexy. That was always Genji’s area of expertise. I’ve been told my flirtation comes off as a business negotiation and is a major turn off. Worst of all, I've only recently come to terms with being gay, and for all I know Jesse is revolted by me. I mean, I'm sure he isn't because he's the apex of goodness, but still. I worry."

"Hm. I see. I'm not surprised. Jesse is very charming, and your personalities are compatible. I haven't seen anyone jab back at him like you do in a long while. But tell me. Why do you think your feelings for Jesse would be a problem? I can guarantee you he’s bisexual because he’s come crying to me about it, and Jesse isn’t revolted by any of his friends. Plus, you’re a very handsome man, and you’ve won the trust of Gabe, who practically raised Jesse. Did something in specific happen?"

"Yes. Genji forced me to ask Jesse to dinner. Jesse didn't react as we expected. He told us not to be cruel and to stop the game at the beginning. I don't understand. Have I given the impression that I don't like Jesse?"

"Oh. Oh, Hanzo. It's nothing to do with you. It’s all in Jesse’s head. You've fallen for a man with a past I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I can't tell you everything, of course, but I can try to explain why he blew you off while using the vaguest details possible. Jesse comes from a troubled home life. He has been abandoned over and over again by everyone he’d ever loved or felt loyal to. He didn't find us, his family, until he was 17, and by then he'd already seen too much. It didn't magically stop there, though, and his suffering has begun to weigh on him in the past decade. His trust issues run very deep, deeper than a dinner date will fix, and he’s just afraid you might be added onto the string of people who end up leaving because they find him to be too much. We all love him so much, but sometimes he forgets. I've officially diagnosed him with several mental illnesses, but he's not public with any of them, so I can't tell you. What you need to do is have a serious talk with him. Force him to listen to you. If it goes somewhere, then good for you. If not, you've at least helped Jesse trust another person." 

"What about Genji. Does he know all this?"

"No. None of us trust him to be discreet. He means well, but sometimes his mouth gets away from him. He understands that."

"Ah. Well. Thank you for your advice, Angie. You're a good friend and a better person than I could ever hope to be."

"That's subjective, but thank you. And thank you for making amends and being open. I'll admit I was wary of you, but I'm glad I've gotten to know the real Hanzo. Now go rope in your cowboy."

Angela makes a weird and vaguely suggestive lasso motion, a motion that causes Hanzo to burst out laughing. It feels good to smile and be able to let loose around someone. The grin on Angela's face is a nice addition to his happy moment. He leaves feeling much better than he had when he entered, and thinks he should seek her out more often.


	7. Chapter 7

Jesse dreams, most nights. Sometimes he sees his ma and pa, blurry and fading fast from memory, still warm to the touch. Sometimes he dreams about Genji or Gabe or Ana, about how much he needs to keep their family safe. Sometimes he dreams about Hanzo. Those are rare, though, because those are good dreams, and Jesse doesn't deserve good dreams. 

Mostly he dreams about fire. 

It happened a decade or so ago. It feels like a lifetime ago. It happened yesterday. It feels like a decade or so ago. 

He can't remember. 

It's all strung up in a special sort of time. It wraps up and comes undone in Jesse's head. Like how he'll wake up one morning to find that he's been bedridden for two weeks and no one said a word. Or how he'll find himself poised to jump off the edge of Gibraltar, Genji no more than a foot away - just in case he doesn't snap out of it in time. Or how he turned around in a fistfight once and found himself 5 minutes later covered in what remained of his target with no recollection of putting his metal hand square through their throat. That kind of time. 

But Angela assures him the fire he dreams about didn't happen yesterday. It happened when he was 25 and still had dreams of being a hero. A big shot. Someone like Gabe. 

They were taking down Deadlock. That's always clear in Jesse's head. Taking down the gang that held him captive for his entire childhood, the gang that he was yanked out of fighting tooth and nail. Not realizing the abuse. The horror. The evil. He was just a spit fire 17 year old with delusions of grandeur and he put a bullet in his savior's stomach. Gabe forgave him and let him be his right hand man. Truly God's messenger, calling him to cross sides and have a chance in Heaven. Debts always have to be repaid. 

The sun was high in the sky, the heat blazing. Gabe and Genji and the rest of Blackwatch were stripped down to the smallest amount of clothing possible while still being part of a covert op. Jesse was cloaked head to toe and hardly breaking a sweat. The desert was his home, his element, his partner. He could take down Deadlock all on his own if Gabe would let him. The heat never bothered him - the fire that raged inside was much brighter and hotter than the sun or any other star he'd heard of. Deadlock took everything from him, and he was ready to raise hell. 

The mission was simple. Get in, kill everyone, maybe take a captive, get out. Nothing they couldn't handle. 

It happened as they were evacuating. All the Deadlock leaders were stains on the goddamned pavement, the remaining loyalist scattered with no more structure. Some of them turned themselves in, hoping for the same chance Jesse got. The same stupid, dewy eyed bastards that abused Jesse from day one. Them and some youngsters that had been similarly conned and pressed into gang life. Jesse felt no pity. He killed them all in the interrogation room. 

The loyal ones, though, the loyal ones almost got them. 

Gabe was going back to recover a body. Jesse didn't know the body. But stupid Gabe cared so much, and Jesse cared about Gabe. He'd wanted to follow Gabe, watch his back, but Gabe insisted everyone stay in the transport and be ready for a quick evac. He didn't fool Jesse though. Jesse saw right through his tough boy lies. Gabe just didn't want Jesse to see what remained of his former family. 

It was 10 minutes later when Gabe and the body were returning, maybe 50 feet from the transport, when an explosion rocked the gorge. Jesse cursed. How could be have forgotten? Deadlock always had a backup plan. The canon had been rigged as soon as word came in about a raid. There was no way Gabe could get himself and a deadweight out of there in time. Jesse, while not as lithe as in his Deadlock days, was still quick in strategy and quicker on his feet - he was up and sprinting toward Gabe, quick as a bullet. Too quick for Genji to yank him back. His vision narrowed, and all he could see was Gabe lugging a sack of meat that he was willing to die for, with no regard for what might happen if he met the same fate.

Jesse remembers screaming, grabbing the front of Gabe’s shirt, and hauling him forward and to the ground. Gabe yelled out, Jesse can never remember the words, but the body tumbled off of Gabe’s shoulders as Jesse yanked them forward. Behind them the Gorge collapsed, rubble flying over their heads and scraping the earth around them. If they'd been standing a second longer, shrapnel and debris would've ripped through anything not covered in Kevlar - faces, hands, legs. Anything. On the ground, curled so the armor took most of the impact, most of the scrapes were superficial. Once hell stopped raining from above, Jesse sat up and turned in horror to watch his home crumble to nothing. Gabe slowly propped himself up and stared hard at the settling dust. 

And right above them, the glint of a rifle. 

Gabe get down!

Gabe didn't budge. His eyes were wide, breathing shallow, blood pooling below his nose He was staring blankly at where the body was now buried under tons of rock. So much for being the big bad strike commander, but Jesse knew Gabe felt things too deeply. He tried very hard not to judge, but Jesse never had that luxury. The body meant nothing. 

But Gabe did. 

Jesse threw his arm up and Gabe down as a crack echoed across the ruins. They missed! That was Jesse's first thought. The second thought was that he couldn't feel his hand. The last thought was how interesting the massive hole in his forearm looked next to the equally massive bullet lodged in his Kevlar. Jesse screamed. Gabe screamed. Another explosion hit right beside them. 

Jesse threw himself over Gabe and let his ruined side take as much of the heat as possible. 

He woke up a month later with PTSD, a partially synthetic left side, and a shiny new arm. 

At least that damn tattoo was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

He’s jerked out of the dream by banging on his door. He groans and buries his face in his pillow, torn between being annoyed and grateful. 

“Gimme a sec,” he hollers into his empty apartment, hoping whoever’s knocking can hear him. He rolls out of bed and tugs on some sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt. If his visitor wants to be rude, they can deal with his naked torso. If it’s Genji again, he’s gonna be livid, but it’s nearly noon so it probably isn’t. He grumbles all the way to the door before yanking it open, immediately feeling self conscious as he realizes who it is. Hanzo Ito is standing on his doorstep, looking damningly handsome and wringing his hands together. 

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he drawls, wishing he had just taken 2 seconds to put a shirt on. Hanzo’s pecs are straining at his t-shirt and the sight just about makes Jesse’s mouth water. He hadn’t been particularly into Hanzo before yesterday, but apparently Hanzo’s confession had sparked something in him. His less than stellar physique has probably killed all feelings Hanzo had for him. Oh well. 

“It is almost 12 in the afternoon, sunshine,” Hanzo draws out the pet name with a smirk playing at his lips, the bastard. Using Jesse’s dialect against him. He makes a small noise in the back of his throat before shrugging helplessly. 

“Uh, time is a concept. Or. Nevermind. Hell, where are my manners? C’mon in, make yourself comfortable. Sorry for the mess, I wasn’t expecting guests.”

“It’s fine. Genji has trashed our apartment in a drunken ‘cleaning’ spree. Your place hardly qualifies as messy.”

“Yeah, but still…” Jesse scratched awkwardly at his hair. “Lemme go put a shirt on.” He retreats to his bedroom and grabs the first thing he can find. It has a cartoonish cactus on it with the words Desert Prick written in garish green letters. Not the best of his fashion choices, but he thought it was cute at the time. He reenters the living room to find Hanzo still standing awkwardly where he’d left him. Jesse huffs a laugh before dropping onto the couch and motioning to the rest of it. 

“Like I said, make yourself comfortable. Need something to eat or drink?”

“No I’m quite alright,” Hanzo replies as he stiffly settles. He glances around before brushing his bangs out of his face. “I wish to speak with you about yesterday.”

Jesse clenches his jaw and sighs. Of course it’s inevitable that this would come up. 

“Yeah? Thought we were gonna forget about it.”

“No. Only you agreed to that one. And because I really do want to go on a date with you, I took the initiative to speak to Angela. Don’t worry. She didn’t say any of the secrets you’ve told her. She just told me that we needed to speak in private and without my nagging kid brother. Will you please hear me out?”

“Reckon I don’t got much of a choice.”

“No, not really. We both know this has to happen. A choice can be made when I ask you on a date at the end of this and you decide whether you want to try.”

“Alright, sounds fair. Shoot.”

“Angela summarized your past as something that has left deep emotional scarring and left you scared of commitment of any kind. I think you’re acting as if you’re the only one with those troubles. You don’t know everything about me. You must know that Genji and I come from a troubled past due to his scarring. I can say what for fear that any of you will be harmed, but I can tell you that I have every right to not trust romance. I have also exercised that right greatly, and you are the first man in a long time I’m willing to open up to. I… lost someone I loved. The first one I loved. I don’t wish to go into detail, but suffice to say I was… was made to… nevermind.”

“Naw, tell me. I won’t judge. Scout’s honor.”

“It is not that simple.”

“Try me. If it really bothers me, I’ll get over since I asked.”

“If you insist. I was made to kill him.”

“You trying to tell me you’re yakuza?”

“In my dreams perhaps. Where I come from, it was worse than yakuza.”

“Gotta admit, always wondered bout that big tattoo on a traditional man such as yourself.”

“What gave you the impression of traditionalism?”

“I dunno. The hair maybe. You keep it long and tied with a ribbon. Or the way you speak. Both you and Genji speak Japanese as your first language, but Genji speaks English in a much more casual manner. I dunno, guess you just give off a vibe that Genji don’t.”

“I see. I suppose that’s fair. I used to be very traditional. Believe it or not I’ve calmed down and settled into American life better than I ever expected.”

“Heh, yeah I believe ya. But go on with your talkin’. I got a feeling you ain’t done.”

“Ok. Well, after I killed him, I was punished. Severely. These steel boots are high tech braces - they mangled my legs beyond use to prevent me from fleeing. I was promised to a girl of wealth and power. I found her too feminine for my taste, which is the moment I realized I was gay. That was… difficult. I was raised to believe that anything other than heterosexuality was wrong, and sex outside of marriage was for commoners. After that, things went downhill. Years passed and Genji and I grew distant. He fled our life with my help, but evidently he didn’t escape unscathed. I followed years later, and we’ve been hiding ever since. We are always watching our backs. I really shouldn’t trust you. For a while, I’ll admit I thought you could be a mercenary, but I think you are a good man. And I like you for that. And for this.”

“This?”

“Listening. You listen to me. You’re not judging me. You haven’t kicked me out. And you look damningly handsome the entire time.”

“Well, I… I never thought anyone saw me that way t’be honest. Always thought I was a bit of a burden. Can I admit something?”

“Of course.”

“I ain’t a mechanic or paper pusher or farmer or whatever you might think I am. I got a government job. It’s highly classified. I can’t say more than that, but I’ve got your back. I’ll keep you safe. Ain’t sure I wanna trust ex-yakuza or whatever you are, but I’ve trusted Genji this long. And it seems to me like y’all are more scared of them than working for them, and I gotta say you’re both terrible actors.”

“You mean Genji is a terrible actor.”

“Yup. And your dumbass tells him damn near everything.”

“Yes, I suppose it is our collective downfall. Did you need to tell me anything else?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I ain’t the most upstanding civilian. I’ve killed. A lot. I got a… guess you’d say an eye for it. Ana calls it my Deadeye. Comes in handy in a pinch, but I feel so guilty using it. Picked it up in the deserts of New Mexico. They called me the Devil of Deadlock Gorge.”

“You come from Deadlock?”

“Practically ran the whole damn operation, sweetheart. They were pretty pissed when the government got a hold of me, but I’ll tell ya it’s the best thing that ever happened to me. Gang life ain’t pretty, as I guess you well know.”

“Yes, I know. I suppose since you told me of your Deadeye, I should tell you about the dragons.”

“Pardon?”

“The dragons. This tattoo is not just ink. There are ancient spirits infused. They… don’t have corporeal forms. At least none that you can see. They are only visible to the wielder and those they are attacking. If an ally saw them, there is a risk that their might and ferociousness would induce crippling fear and throw the fight. So they shield their forms from those I trust. They aren’t even solid. They are more what you would call an energy for destruction. They take the form of dragons when attached to me, but if attached to Angela they might become a seraphim. Or to Gabriel a black specter. Or to you… a Devil.”

“Huh. That’s fancy. Think I heard something ‘bout your family from my work, now that you mention that. Won’t go digging though, I promise.”

“Thank you. Now, not to be presumptuous, but do you trust me any more than before?”

“Yeah, reckon I do.”

“Enough for a date?”

“Well, honey I think we just about had a date on this here couch. Dunno if there’s a place I’d rather be than right here talking with you.”

“That is… disgustingly romantic,” Hanzo laughs. “Are you going to kiss me at the end of our date?”

“Sure am honey. And might be hoping you’ll stay the night?”

“I don’t put out that easy.”

“Naw, ain’t what I meant. Just thought you might wanna snuggle up and stay warm. That’s all.”

“Very sweet of you. But I must return home and make sure the goblin gets fed. He was fasting with Zenyatta the past day and might forget that 24 hours have passed.”

“Mind if I come with?”

“Of course not. Come.”

Jesse follows Hanzo out the door, glad he left his boots in easy reach, and locks up behind them. The walk to Hanzo’s place is short and filled with easy silence and Jesse’s mindless humming. At some point Hanzo slips his hand into Jesse’s and leans in closer. It makes Jesse’s heart skip a beat, and for the first time in a long time he doesn’t shoot his feelings dead. It’s nice, falling for Hanzo. Sure, he always thought he was all regal and pretty, but he never wanted to get past the surface. He regrets not doing that sooner. Hanzo can relate to Jesse in a way none of his other friends can. Well, aside from Genji, but Genji actually seems more cagey about their past than Hanzo. Perhaps because he’s not attracted to Jesse and has no reason to share. Still. Hanzo is witty and funny despite his serious face, and his smiles are like sunshine. And while he says things that give him a haughty or arrogant air, deep down he cares deeply about others and Jesse finds that, despite all circumstances, he trusts him. 

When they arrive at Hanzo’s place, they can already see Genji moving around inside. Hanzo unlocks the door and immediately kicks his shoe off at Genji. 

“Greetings!” Genji says as he deftly grabs the shoe out of the air and throws it back. Hanzo grins and sets it carefully at the threshold. 

“Hello, goblin. Have you eaten?”

“Yes! I’m making dinner for Master and I, and bringing it back to his place. He was too comfortable to move.”

“I see. So you will be leaving?”

“Yeah, but if you wanted to bone, you should’ve gone to Jesse’s. He doesn’t have a little brother to scar.”

“We were at Jesse’s, but I came to make sure you were feeding yourself. And since you’re leaving, we’ll just stay. And we aren’t boning.”

“Oh right. Virgin. Awkward. Right.”

“Genji.”

“Oh, shit, you haven’t told him yet. My bad. It’s ok, Jesse will be gentle.”

“Genji!”

“Welp, looks like the food’s all warm and packed up now. Gotta go! I’m staying at Zenyatta’s probably!!”

And then with a final slam of the door, Genji’s gone. 

“Apologies,” Hanzo mutters red creeping up his cheeks. Jesse laughs. Hanzo’s cute when he blushes.

“Ain’t a thing sugar. I’m not judgin’ you or nothing. Based on what you told me, I already guessed as much what with the arranged marriage thing. We can go at your pace.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. It’s getting late. We should head to bed.”

“Yeah. Should I stay on the couch or…?”

“Couch. I will stay until you’re asleep. I don’t need Genji returning early and taking blackmail photos.”

“Understandable.”

Jesse makes himself comfortable on Hanzo’s admittedly comfortable couch. Hanzo goes deeper into the apartment and returns with an armful of blankets and pillows. Jesse bursts out laughing when Hanzo drops the entire load into him before crawling into his space and effectively making a nest. They end up laying side by side with Hanzo’s head tucked under Jesse’s chin and breathing gently against his neck. Jesse leans back a little to look at Hanzo and how goddamn stunning he is. 

“Can I kiss ya, sugar?”

Hanzo just smiles and leans up in response. They meet in the middle, and Jesse is 100% sure that Hanzo has plenty of experience with kissing because goddamn. He leaves Jesse winded and pull back with a smug smile. 

“Goodnight, Jesse.”

“Night, pumpkin.”


	9. Chapter 9

Hanzo is gone. 

Jesse realizes this when he wakes up on Hanzo's couch and the front door is hanging open, Hanzo's shoes still lined up neatly at the threshold. All of Jesse's Blackwatch instincts kick in, and he's on his feet with Peacekeeper in record time. Whatever haze of sleep that usually settles behind his eyes is absent. He'd be a shit soldier if he couldn't shake off something as weak as dreams. 

He does a quick sweep of the apartment, ready to fire at the first threat. Nothing jumps out at him, and when he flips the light on in Hanzo's room it's pristine - too much so. His bed is made, his reading glasses folded neatly on the table, every item in perfect order. At first glance it looks fine, but something tells him that even Hanzo, perfectionist Hanzo, should have a room that looks at least a little like someone lives there. A stray shirt over the back of a chair, his gourd tipped over next to a stack of papers, a random sock in a corner. There's none of that now, which means someone cleaned up. Jesse narrows his eyes and searches for signs of a struggle, scowling when he sees scuff marks on the wall just above the floor - likely from Hanzo's leg braces. How had he not been woken by a struggle when they left through the front door? 

His question is answered when Genji bursts in with pained groans and a grim expression. His eyes are unfocused and movements slow. Drugged, then. As soon as Jesse runs to him, Genji promptly collapses into his arms. A syringe is stuck in the side of his neck. Only half the drug seems to have been injected, but it seems even a little bit of the shit is strong. The blood on Genji suggests that the person responsible is now missing at least a few fingers. The assailant must have been hoping he'd be asleep but instead caught Genji in one of his late night moods, up all night doing whatever it is Genji does for fun. Probably Hanzo's accounting sheets. Never has Jesse been more grateful for finance. He hauls Genji inside and shuts the door. When he asks after Zenyatta Genji merely nods, and Jesse decides he’s useless. He carries him back into the apartment toward Hanzo’s room.

"Hanzo..." Genji mutters, half delirious. It feels wrong to toss Genji down on Hanzo's bed, but Jesse does it anyways so he can fish his phone out of his pocket and call Angela. 

"Hanzo's gone, baby," Jesse mutters as he smooths Genji's hair away from his face. His skin is sweaty, clammy, nothing like the cocksure man Jesse's come to know. Genji jerks violently at Jesse's words and his eyes go wild. 

"No..." he moans, hands coming up to claw at Jesse's arm. "No, god no. No! You're lying, aren't you? Hanzo wouldn't... they can't.... he's too strong. They can't have him. He can't be gone. Tell me you're lying, Jesse. C'mon tell me you're lying."

"I ain't lying, Genji. He's good and gone." Genji lets out a pathetic whimper and squeezes his eyes shut. Jesse grips his hand and rubs soothing circles with his thumb. "Genji, who's 'they'? Who has him? You sound like you know who took him."

Jesse is interrupted when his call connects with a click. Angela's picked up, and she doesn't sound happy about being woken up at the crack of dawn. 

"Jesse McCree Ortiz, what on earth could possibly be this impor-"

Before Jesse can get a word in, the phone is wrenched out of his hands, and suddenly Jesse has a lap full of Genji babbling into the phone. 

"Angie, they're here. They found us, they got Hanzo. Oh god, they're here. Please don't die, Angie. Don't let them get you, too. Don't let them get me. Please, please, please. Oh my god, they're going to kill me. Oh god, oh god, oh god..."

Jesse watches Genji's breakdown in mild horror. Genji sags against Jesse and buries his face in his chest, looking like a man defeated. Sobs wrack his body, but no tears stain Jesse's shirt. He gently wraps his arms around Genji and takes the phone from his hand. 

"Heya, Angie. Someone drugged Genji and kidnapped Hanzo. Front door was hanging open, but they snuck past me. Dunno what's going on, but Genji needs medical attention, if you'd be so kind. Looks like they planned on drugging the two of them and dragging them off, but I'm guessing Genji was awake and fought back. Hanzo ain't seeming to be as lucky."

"I'll be there right away," she promises. Jesse can hear her rushing around, and in under 5 minutes her front door slams shut and he can hear the car start. "I'm headed over now. Keep Genji awake no matter what." The line clicks dead and Jesse looks tiredly at Genji, wondering what the hell he's just gotten in the middle of. 

Jesse cradles a whimpering Genji in his arms until Angela arrives. He feels terrible for making Genji stay awake, but who knows what the drug might do if Genji slips unconscious. Genji seems to hate him for it. He strikes out if Jesse shakes him out of a trance, yells at any shadow that moves funny, swears he'll gut Jesse for keeping him from hunting down Hanzo. It hurts Jesse to see his best friend in such a way, but there's no way around it. Genji gets so worked up that he eventually makes himself sick. After a miserable minute of Genji dry heaving over the toilet, Jesse strips them both down and draws a warm bath. He guides Genji into the water with him, settling him between his legs and stroking his hair. The warmth seems to soothe Genji, and the strong press of Jesse sitting behind him grounds him to the present. He eventually stops shivering, his eyes losing the desperate haze that had been collecting. Jesse gently traces some of the scars along his torso. He's never really asked about them. Genji keeps them private for a reason, a reason that's quickly seeming relevant. 

"You good there, partner?"

Genji draws in a shaky breath and turns to wrap his arms around Jesse. "No, but I am... calmer. I'm sorry, I forgot myself for a moment." He bunches his fist against his chest before forcing a weak laugh. "I have to say, getting naked with a handsome man never hurts when calming me down."

Jesse swats at his wandering hands and continues to poke at his scars. "Whoa, there. You and I both know which Ito I like more, and it ain't you." Genji chuckles and settles back to where they were, with Genji's back pressed against Jesse's heart. "Anyways, I'm starting to think these scars have something to do with our current predicament. So you wanna start speaking some truth?"

Genji hesitates enough for Jesse to know he's planning on lying. Normally, Jesse would let it slide. Hell, he knows a thing or two about keeping the past under lock and key. But this time there's someone else at stake, someone who's leaving a gaping hole in the hearts of both Genji and Jesse. 

"That ain't gonna fly, sugar. You've gotta tell me the whole truth. You know I've respected your wishes for near a decade now, but you're our only shot at getting Hanzo back. So c'mon, now. What's goin' on?"

"...My name is not Ito."

"Come again?"

"Ito. It's an alias. Hanzo and I are wanted by the yakuza. Our name is Shimada."

Jesse's hand stills where it had been stroking up and down Genji's side. He's heard that name before. In his early Blackwatch days, Reyes had dropped the name once  
before disappearing off to Japan for days. He'd returned with Genji, slashed to all hell with Angela glued to his bedside. Said the Shimada got a hold of him, but never once mentioned that Genji was of the family. Now he knows why Hanzo and his conversation about their past spiked a vague memory.

"Alrighty, so you think the Shimada got Hanzo?"

"I know they did."

"Why?"

"...I don't know."

"Bullshit."

Genji squeezes his eyes shut and stands to step out of the tub. He's shutting down and Jesse knows it. He wants to be understanding, honest - Genji's going through a grief that Jesse can't comprehend - but he's a soldier above all else, and whatever secrets Genji is keeping are dangerous. 

"Ito, I - wait, fuck. Shimada. I'm trying to go easy on ya, I really am, but I need answers. So I'll let you off the hook until Angie gets here and patches you up, but the second you're fully lucid I'm gonna grill your ass. Do I make myself clear?"

"Sir, yessir," Genji quips. He's always found it amusing how fast Jesse goes into soldier mode. Even when they're both naked and hurting, Genji finds a sliver of his usual humor. Jesse stands and grabs Genji to wrap him in a bear hug. 

“You’re gonna be alright darlin’. We’re gonna get him back. I think I hear Angie outside. I’m gonna go fetch her.”

Jesse leaves Genji in the bath and towels off before putting his clothes back on. He heads to the front and lets Angela in. 

“He’s in the bathroom. I’m headed out.”

“Out?”

“Yeah. I think I got all I need.”

“For what?”

“Best if you don’t know, angel. Otherwise Gabe will ride your ass about it.”

“You’re getting Hanzo aren’t you.”

“Yeah, reckon I am.”

“You love him.”

“Wouldn’t go that far.”

“You do. I can see it. You’ve been falling in love for months and that’s why you ran away when he asked you to dinner.”

“We never went to dinner.”

“Oh?”

“We sat on my couch and talked for a while, then came here. Guess I fell in love in one night.”

“No you didn’t. You fell in love the moment you opened up to him in the slightest bit. And last night only made it harder.”

“You’re probably right. I ain’t good at this whole romance thing. But I know I don’t wanna lose him.”

“You’re a good man. Won’t you wait for backup?”

“This is time sensitive, Angie. I’ve got some friends who owe me favors back in New Mexico. I’m headed back there, then hopping the first plane to Japan.”

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yup. I’ve got everything I need.”

“I suppose I can’t stop you. Here, take these medpacks.”

“Thanks, Ang. You’re a good person.”

“Just doing my duty. Now go. I’ll care for Genji. Come home. Please.”

“I will. And I’m bringing Hanzo with me.”


	10. Chapter 10

For the most part, Jesse considers himself a fairly nice person. Not in a particularly pompous way. He freely acknowledges any and all flaws, and he’s certain that he often comes across as harsh, but nevertheless people find charm in him. He's been told as much on multiple occasions by multiple people. Sometimes even his enemies. 

You seem like a nice enough guy. Conflict of interest certainly is a shame.

I'm looking into the sweetest eyes ever and they belong to hell on earth.

Deadeye for a deadman. Gentlemen don't shake hands.

The ghosts that haunt him.

Kindness, of course, doesn't mean warmth. Jesse always feels cold in some form or another. They say he radiates kindness, radiates heat, but it's all an atmosphere. At his very core, he's lost everything, and he does his damndest to hide it. 

Angela knows, of course. How could she not? When he got his arm blown off, she was right there with Gabe, screaming and crying and cursing his selflessness. When he woke up he told her it wasn't selfless, it was duty. She cried harder because she thought he meant he didn't care about Gabe. She locked away Peacekeeper when she realized he meant he didn't care about himself. 

Genji knows, the sneaky bastard. He wormed his way into Jesse's heart and ripped apart his secrets with razor sharp precision. Not that Jesse stopped him. Jesse was one of the first responders when Genji was rushed off the transport from Japan, and he was the first to greet him after Ana let it slip that Jesse spoke passable Japanese. The soft brown eyes that blinked open to meet Jesse's latched onto whatever soul he had left and haven't let go since. 

Those eyes, those eyes, those same eyes on his brother. Hanzo. Hanzo isn't cold. He thinks he is, of course. But Jesse knows the protective glances that are always trained on Genji, a safeguard for the only person he loves. He knows how careful Hanzo is to keep his emotions under wraps, to present to the world as nothing but stoic. But that doesn't change the fact that they're there. He feels things - raw, intense, and tangible. Hanzo wrestles his emotions to keep them in the same order he's always kept them in.

That's not a luxury Jesse has. 

Orphans don't get emotions. Gangsters don't get emotions. Black ops don't get emotions. Jesse McCree can't afford that sort of debt. 

But he does get to fall in love. 

Which is why he's on a transport to Japan on an unsanctioned mission with no backup. The files he stole from Gabe weigh heavy in his bag and on his conscience, but he needed them. He had no idea where the brothers came from or where to start this mission, but now he has all their secrets in a crisp manilla folder. Hanamura. Shimada Castle. The strongest yakuza empire in Japan, now in ruins, trying to gain leverage by reconditioning their heir. Hanzo. Hanzo with soft eyes and a mean smile. Hanzo who thinks he's better than everyone but himself and sometimes Genji. Always better than Jesse unless they're making eye contact - then he blushes and looks away and lets Jesse win for once. Hanzo who can't do math for shit but says dumb tthings like simple geometry, even when they prove on paper that Jesse is better yet never got past 3rd grade. Hanzo who holds someone’s hand during scary movies and hogs the spotlight and only drinks coffee if it's the same color as his pale elegant neck. Hanzo who only kissed Jesse goodnight once but has always texted him to make sure they both get home safe. Hanzo who, if Jesse doesn't save him, will take all his secrets to the grave.   
Jesse grits his teeth at the thought. He can't lose Hanzo. Not when he's so close to filling the 30 year old hole in the direct center of his chest. Hasn't he lost enough? His parents, his home, his gang, his soul. Ungrateful, perhaps, is the hanged man, but he thinks bitterly that he's more than paid his penance. For all the years since he's been ex-Deadlock, he's crossed his t's and dotted his i's. Said his Hail Marys and Our Fathers. Built a shrine in his mind for all those he's killed, for better or for worse. Cared for his new family with the intensity of a dying man trying to see those big pearly gates. Given his all and taken nothing for himself. If he fails this mission, Hanzo becomes a number on a list, and Jesse knows he will never love again. 

He sighs and breaks his train of thoughts when his phone buzzes. Messages from Gabe, Ana, Genji, Fareeha, Jack... he ignores them all and clears his screen. A lump threatens to rise into his throat as he stares at his lockscreen. It's a slightly askew moment of happiness that Hana just happened to capture. Hanzo is casually leaning against his motorcycle, leather jacket slung over his shoulder and helmet tucked under his arm. Jesse is next to him with an arm hooked around his shoulders, looking rather ragged compared to Hanzo. There's grease on his white T-shirt, his flannel is rolled up at his elbows, and his hair is in a haphazard ponytail, but Hanzo is looking at him with nothing short of adoration. That had been one of Jesse's few genuinely good days.

Jesse shuts his phone off and tries to monitor his breathing. It doesn't do Hanzo any good if he panics or gets lost in nostalgia. His phone keeps buzzing. He chances a look and every message is from Genji. 

Where are you?

Gabe is furious.

Who is your backup?

Why didn't you bring me?

Jesse you're scaring me. 

Blackwatch has declared you AWOL.

You can't save the whole world.

You left your hat. 

Please come back. 

We love you, Jesse.

I love you.

Bring Hanzo home.

Jesse deletes all of them. He considers trashing his phone, but he knows that's pulling the plug. He needs a way to contact the world in case everything goes right. Instead he sends Genji instructions on where to find the flash drive with his last will and how to break the various encryptions protecting it. Something in his mind whispers that he's just sent everyone into a fit of tears and hysteria, but he doesn't care. If he dies, he needs that flash drive to be in the hands of his best friend because even he's not mulish enough to see this as anything but a suicide mission.

He holds down the power button until the screen goes dark. He's officially alone now. Alone over the Pacific Ocean. He closes his eyes and grasps for his last chances at sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

The dragons are restless. They writhe and whisper under Hanzo’s skin, but he has no weapons through which to channel them. Besides, he's chained down and drugged to high hell. Every once in awhile, dark figures will go past, talking in low voices on what to do with him. They've already branded him. The Ouroboros of the clan burns on his bicep, a mark he can never escape. They've also taken his legs and removed the ports that were screwed into what remained of this legs. That was the day he'd screamed himself hoarse before blacking out as they hacked into his stubs and ripped the screws from the bone. Now he can't feel much of anything. 

There’s no way of knowing how long he’s been here. Weeks definitely, hopefully no more than a month or two. He hopes someone is coming to save him. Genji's friends are more than capable of infiltration and rescue. Angela’s told him many stories about Overwatch's golden days. Maybe some of them have grown to care. Part of him wants Genji to lead the strike. A larger part wants him to stay home and stay safe with everyone else. But, god, what he wouldn’t give to hear Genji’s laugh right now, or feel Jesse’s strong arms around him. Jesse who lights up every room he walks into, even though he swears a little rain cloud follows him around. Who sings Hanzo to sleep with sweet Spanish lullabies that he can’t understand. The man who talks loud and thinks louder, every emotion under lock and key unless they benefit the happiness of his friends. Hanzo wishes Jesse were as happy as he pretends to be, and he wants to be the man who protects that happiness. 

Thinking of Jesse right now almost hurts. What if he’s injured or dead? What if the Shimada got to him too? If Hanzo can’t break out, what chance does Jesse stand? Hanzo dimly remembers walking in on Jesse and Gabe talking about something serious, the words black-ops and technically illegal reaching his ears before they noticed him, but how deep in that is Jesse? If he’s part of that, he could be prepared. If not… Hanzo shudders to think it. He can’t dwell on thoughts Jesse here. There’s too many unknowns and he’ll only drive himself crazy if he lets them take root. 

Heavy footfalls save him from delving deeper into his mind and alert him to a new visitor. Until now, all of his enemies have been light on their feet, the only indication of their presence a light whisper of fabric against steel. Otherwise, he’s been completely deprived of aural stimulation. Now, these new steps are deafeningly loud. He forces himself to chance a look at this new person. 

“Grandfather,” Hanzo sneers, resisting the urge to spit at the man’s feet.

“Speaking in English full time now, are we? And here I thought there was no further way for you to disappoint me.”

“Multilingualism is a gift, grandfather. I am not bound by your traditions and prejudice.”

“And tell me, Hanzo. Do the Americans you fraternize with know your language?”

That gives Hanzo pause. Do they? Angela does, but he doesn’t want to drag her into this conversation. As tough as she is, she’s a doctor, not a fighter, and if they should find her, Genji would be devastated. He certainly can’t tell them about Genji, even though he’s technically American with his shiny new citizenship. Zenyatta, certainly, but he’s in the same boat as Angela. Which leaves only…

“Jesse.”

“Jesse? What a ridiculous American name. And tell me, Hanzo, is Jesse as uncouth as you, your father, and your insolent little brother?”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Hanzo hisses, triumph coursing through him at the horror that his Grandfather can’t hide fast enough. “He is extremely uncouth, a filthy American cowboy, and I’m going to give him that virtue you made me hold all those years.”

“You forget your place, boy, like your father before you. He was soft and weak, and so I killed him. It was no task to break my son. It will be a lesser task to break his.”

Hanzo only has time to bark out a laugh before the butt of his Grandfather’s gun smashes against his temple. Hanzo cries out in pain, thrashing blindly in an attempt to chance a lucky hit. His elbow connects with something solid, a grunt forced out of his grandfather. Good. Hanzo has only a moment to feel smug before the gun comes down again and Hanzo’s world goes black. 

His eyes open to Hanamura of over a decade ago. He is 25 again, and he sits next to his father in the garden. The cherry trees are in full bloom, the birds singing softly from the highest branches. Sojiro takes Hanzo’s hand in his own and looks his son in the eye. 

“Hanzo,” he says, all mirth gone from his eyes. “Hanzo, I am dying.”

“Do not speak like that, Father.”

“I speak only the truth.”

“Father…”

“Shh. Listen, Hanzo. Physically, I am thriving. I am in my prime and I have a beautiful wife and two handsome young sons. But the clan resents me. I am no longer the leader they wish to see. I do not bathe in luxury as they do, and I do not want my family to be unhappy. It is not far from when I may draw my last breath. Do not fear, Hanzo. I have left an empire for you, and if you can unseat the elders during your reign, the Shimada can prosper once more.”

“I don’t want an empire without you.”

“Nor I without you, but I am not immortal. Don’t fret too much, though. You will have Genji by your side. As you are to your mother, Genji is to me. It will be like having a tiny Sojiro, but with sparrow’s wings!”

“You hold too much faith in Genji. He is reckless, promiscuous, and his brain is addled by alcohol and drugs. You are nothing alike to him.”

“You would be surprised if I told you the youthful fun I had before my father forced me to behave. Genji is not as lost as you think he is. I trust you to bring him to heel. He respects you Hanzo. Often I think he is jealous of the attention cast on you and seeks his own form of it. Show him that the empire belongs to both of you. Become brothers once again.”

“Like the dragons you told us about?”

Sojiro looks stunned that Hanzo remembers, but then he laughs and shakes his head. He stands, casting a contemplative look toward Hanzo before walking away. 12 hours later he dies. Hanzo forgets about the dragons.


	12. Chapter 12

Breaking into Shimade Castle is easy. Jesse is trained in stealth, and the empire is weak. Finding Hanzo is harder. The castle is full of strange twists and turns, dead ends meant to trap enemies until they perish or meet a defendant. Luckily, Jesse’s been here before on that Blackwatch bust nearly ten years ago. He remembers the layout well enough, and hazards a guess at where Hanzo is being kept. Plus, he can feel the energy of the dragons drawing him close. 

When he enters the hidden room beneath the castle where the dragons are leading him, the scene is horrifying. The lights are dim, broken by honest to god torches. A putrid smell surrounds him - the smell of human waste, blood, death, decay. Parts of skeletons are scattered across the dirt floor, some of them still shackled where they died. And in the center of it all, stands a thin old man holding a knife to Hanzo’s throat. 

“Are you the uncouth American Hanzo spoke of? He says you speak Japanese. Prove he wasn’t lying.”

“Yeah, that’s me. The name’s Jesse. I’m here to take him home.”

“He is home, no matter how far he has run. Our heir has returned and I intend to make him mine.”

“Sorry, partner, that just won’t fly. See, I’ve taken a liking to him and know he’s not happy here. Just hand him over and I’ll let your little clan go. Or what’s left of it, at least. Killed a couple of your guards getting in here. Sorry.”

“What are you, a one man team, going to do?”

“I’ll bring the wrath of Blackwatch down on your sorry ass. Right after I plant 6 bullets in you. I’m thinking two in your knees, and one to your stomach, heart, throat, and head.”

“You presume too much. Your skill is no match for mine. I’ve trained for years to defeat silly Western fights. You cannot fire 6 bullets faster than I can slit his throat.”

“Guess you haven’t heard much about me then. My name is Jesse McCree Ortiz. They call me the Devil of Deadlock Gorge. And I’m here for the love of my life.”

Jesse feels the world narrow to 6 points, the air feels hot in the back of his throat. This is where he’s at home in his headspace. Time slows and he draws Peacekeeper to his side like an old friend. The mission is Hanzo. The objective is to kill. He sees the old man move and the shots echo. He drops, and Jesse runs to Hanzo’s side. 

“Honeybee, sugar, pumpkin, apple pie. Open your eyes, please. It’s me. It’s Jesse. I’m here to take you home.”

Hanzo only whimpers and curls away from him, delirious. Jesse bites back a sob from seeing his proud Hano reduced to this. He pulls out syringe and sedates Hanzo before slinging him over his shoulder. Then, he pulls his phone out and powers it back on. He scrolls to Lena’s number and hits call. 

“Jesse! God, it’s so good to hear from you, love. I’ve had the ship prepped for weeks. Where to?”

“Japan. Hanamura. I’ve got Hanzo.”

“Right on. Be there in a few. You better be grateful we have all these engineers that made this the fastest jet. Plus I’m already in Japan. Genji told me to wait here.”

“Right. Rendezvous at the Shimada Castle gates. I’ll subdue our enemies.”

“Feels like the glory days mate!”

“Sure does Lena. Ain’t sure I like it much.”

“Oh, come off it, once Hanzo’s better, you’ll want to adrenaline back.”

“Yeah yeah. Just get your ass over here. He need Angie’s attention ASAP.”

\------------------------------------------

The moment they land back in the US, Hanzo is rushed to Angela’s private hospital reserved only for Blackwatch agents. She assures Jesse that Hanzo will be given the best care and she’ll alert him when he wakes. Jesse just barges into the room after they finish the surgery on his legs and camps out in a chair. He doesn’t want to miss the moment Hanzo wakes. 

When Hanzo does wake, it’s with a lot of yelling and flailing before Genji rushes in and calms him. Hanzo speaks in rapid Japanese, fast enough that only Genji and Zenyatta understand. From what Jesse gathers, Hanzo doesn’t know where he is and only remembers Jesse and Genji from the past few years. He stares blankly at Angela and Hana, the latter of which bursts out crying and has to be ushered away from the doorway. For Jesse’s part, he goes in to kiss Hanzo, but Hanzo looks confused. 

“Don’t you remember what we had?”

“I remember our friendship.”

“Nothin about our… our…”

“No. I’m sorry. I think you’re handsome, but I don’t remember anything other than friendship.”

“Oh. Well, that’s alright then. We’ll work on that.”

“Were we boyfriends?”

“Not quite. Getting there maybe. We’ll just start over.”

“Ok. I’m sorry.”

“Quit apologizing. It ain’t your fault.”

“What happened?”

“You were kidnapped by your family and tortured. They wanted you for their heir again. I went on a solo mission to get you. Obviously I succeeded, and I think I shot most of the clan on the way out. Lena came with the evac and we got you here as quick as possible.”

“I don’t remember you being of that profession.”

“I never told you specifically. But I’m a Blackwatch agent. Super secret black ops organization in the government. We do all the dirty work.”

“Why’d you join?”

“Well I told you a bit about Deadlock Gang one time. When Gabe, you’ll meet him again sometime, pulled me out of there, he told me I either got to put my skills to good work or rot in prison for the rest of my life. I chose redemption.”

“I see. Well, I’m grateful. Grateful that we met and grateful that it was you who saved me. I think I could fall in love again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Just give me time.”

“Of course, sugar. Anything you need.”


	13. Chapter 13

"Do you know what a haiku is?"

Jesse startles at the question. It's 3 in the morning and he's lying in bed next to Hanzo. He thought the archer was long asleep, but apparently fitful nights are not exclusive to Jesse. He turns his head to look questioningly at Hanzo, but Hanzo is staring at the ceiling. He doesn't notice Jesse looking, nor does he seem to notice anything aside from whatever pattern he's found in the plaster. He’s obviously in some sort of distress, and Jesse feels bad for finding him attractive in the moment. But how can he not? The moonlight that filters through the curtains makes patterns across his sharp features, painting silver over regal brow and cheekbones while plunging the dips of his face into shadows. His lashes flutter gently and the new scars that mar his features almost shimmer in the night. His hair is in disarray, haloing his head - ethereal. He lays still on his back, exactly like a corpse, with only a light sheen across his eyes to indicate that he's awake. Unless corpses can cry. Can the dead cry? The thought scares Jesse. He reaches over and takes Hanzo's hand to ensure he's still warm. 

Hanzo is technically supposed to be at Angela's house recovering from his ordeal, but every night he escapes to either Jesse or Genji's place. He doesn't remember Angela - he's scared of her. He doesn't really remember Jesse either, but he remembers safety in the form of smoke and whiskey. So he usually ends up knocked out on Jesse's couch or curled in bed as far away from the other man as possible. Which is understandable. Jesse is nothing more than a friend now. A friend who leaves lingering touches of a lost love and who stares absently at the gold ribbon he keeps around his hat. The ribbon Hanzo doesn't remember. The ways in which they've changed. Jesse wonders why tonight Hanzo decided to lay closer and stare at the ceiling. 

"Jesse, did you hear me?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Ain't something I know much about, but I've heard the word."

"You lack culture."

Jesse huffs out a laugh. “Reckon I do, honey. I didn't get much formal education past 3rd grade, and I think poetry was taught in 5th or something. I dunno."

"But you speak fluent Japanese."

"Passable Japanese, sugar. Passable. And only because I was friends with this guy who ran away from the yakuza and joined up with Deadlock."

"Hmph. Coward."

"Yeah, he sure was. Biggest fuckin’ coward I ever met, but he taught me some cool shit."

"Like Japanese?"

"And how to cheat."

"But nothing of the haiku?"

"He weren't the most poetic of men."

"No, of course not. No poet would survive the yakuza, or any other gang for that matter."

"You saying you don't know about haiku either?"

"No. I know much about poetry. But I did not survive the yakuza. I fled with dishonor and have paid most dearly."

"Sure, you survived. You're still here ain't you?"

"Perhaps. But my memory is in pieces and I am no longer whole. I cut down my only family. My legs have been taken from me twice now. I don't know any of the well wishers that now work their lives around accommodating me. I would be completely useless if not for the help of you and your friends. That does not seem much like a survivor."

"You're overthinkin’ it, sweetheart. There's gotta be a shipwreck before you can survive. Otherwise you're just a sailor."

"And what does that make you?"

Jesse opens his mouth, but pauses. Is he a survivor? What a bizarre question. He sure isn't a sailor. Sailors navigate; Jesse drifts. And while he's seen his fair share of storms, he hasn't shipwrecked. Not like Hanzo has. He finds no words. Hanzo laughs at his nonresponse. 

"I'm sorry. I digress. I only brought it up because I just remembered that I thought of a beautiful haiku about you when I was... away. I cannot remember what it said in Japanese, but I had made an English form. Not quite the same, but I think it will impact you more without you muddling through language barriers. And it pissed grandfather off that I continue to think and speak in English." Hanzo laughs then. A hollow, bitter laugh. He keeps looking to the ceiling for answers. "To be honest, I had nearly forgotten it, but a dragon came to me in a dream. It showed me the words, the English words, but asked me to be sure you knew why I find the haiku so beautiful before I recited it to you."

"And why is that?"

"Because it is short, sweet, and biting."

"Well, now. Everything I love about you."

"What?"

"Nothin’." Jesse finally tears his gaze away from Hanzo. He looks to the ceiling for answers. "Don't worry about it, darlin'. Tell me the haiku."

Desert grit and sun   
Tunnel vision leads to home  
Summertime mirage

There is a raw emotion that lodges in Jesse’s throat. What can he say? This poem, this haiku, this piece of Hanzo is a swift uppercut to the conscience. What can he say? Jesse can't think of a clever response. No cheesy romantic lines, no deep unfathomable contemplation, nothing. He lets out a low whistle instead. 

"Damn, honeybee..."

Hanzo shushes him, waving an annoyed hand in his direction. 

"No comments are necessary. Just... think about it for a little while. Please."

Jesse nods, and obediently mulls it over. Hell, poetry has never been his thing. Sure, he's always got a mouthful of words ready to use at a moment's notice, but he's a story teller, not a poet. He tells people what they want to hear, not what he wants to tell them. But Hanzo just put his heart and soul into three little lines. The kind of shit Jesse keeps under wraps. He can't make heads or tails of it if he's being honest. The words mean something, anything, but what went through Hanzo's mind?

Desert grit and sun   
Tunnel vision leads to home  
Summertime mirage

Jesse tries everything. Line by line. Word by word. Big picture. Little picture. Putting himself in Hanzo's shoes. Remembering. He glances back at Hanzo. A sad smile is gracing his features, his eyelids are slowly drifting shut. Maybe the meaning isn't meant to be said aloud. Jesse whispers the poem into the darkness. Over and over until the colors and words run together and it's just an endless thought. It has to mean something. Hanzo turns his back to Jesse and cries himself to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

The next few months are hard. Hanzo has to relearn how to walk. Genji has to care for his traumatized brother. Angela and Zenyatta do their best to play therapist and treat him as more than a patient but less than an old friend. Hana has to make the decision to close Hanzo’s restaurant for a time because no one is around to run it. And Jesse. Well Jesse has to be in love with a man with no memory.

Technically he has the easiest job. Hanzo at least remembers him. And he’s not torn between professionalism and being personal. All he has to do is squash down every instinct that says to hold Hanzo tightly and kiss him senseless, or bring him sickeningly sweet presents, or anything else that might scare him off. He just tries to rebuild what they had started, only stronger. For example, he shares secrets in short confessions. 

His parents were Mexican and he lived there until he was 8.

When he turned 8, his parents were found and killed by Deadlock for being deserters. 

He was forced to join Deadlock as a newly orphaned boy and ended up thriving in order to survive.

He can use most weapons but prefers his pistol. 

He earned Peacekeeper because Deadlock stole it from his parents and he stole it back.

He left Deadlock at 17 because Gabe saved him, even after Jesse shot him. 

He joined Blackwatch and perfected his Deadeye there. 

He’s a professional killer. 

Angela diagnosed him with major depression, manic depression, and PTSD. He doesn’t talk about any of them. He likes to pretend they don’t exist. 

Genji was in Blackwatch. 

He fucked Genji in Blackwatch. 

Hanzo laughs about the last one. He laughs about it at random times. Jesse doesn’t think it’s particularly funny, but eventually it leads to Hanzo insisting he has a type - short brooding yakuza boys with impossible ninja skills. Jesse rolls his eyes and goes to refute him, but suddenly Hanzo is in his space. He’s crawled into Jesse lap where he’s lounging on his couch, and his nose is pressed to Jesse’s.

“I remember you,” he says, eyes full of wonder. “I remember. We talked. The night before everything. I think I fell in love.”

“Darlin, you don’t gotta humor me. We can just - “

“No! I remember you doing that before. Running away. Please don’t run away from me again. I think I love you.”

“I love you too, babydoll. I really honest to god love you.”

“Then can I kiss you? I can’t remember what that felt like.”

“Yeah, honey, you sure can.”

And just like last time, they meet in the middle. Hanzo’s lips are warm and pliant and all Jesse can do is grin and pull him closer. 

“Welcome home, baby.”

And they both know it’s true.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is it! I was so blessed to work with the amazing Caro who can be found as cuteskitty on tumblr. They brought to life an amazing scene from Chapter 4, which you can view on their blog [here](http://cuteskitty.tumblr.com/post/172358692879/this-is-my-entry-for-the-mchanzo-big-bang)
> 
> Please leave them a tip on their ko-fi which is linked at the bottom of their post and the top of their blog!


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